Gridlocked
by hiding duh
Summary: Casey/Sarah. Yup, it's going to be one of those days.


Happy birthday, **danakate**! Here, have a ficlet.

**Title**: Gridlocked  
**Fandom**: Chuck  
**Characters/Pairings**: Casey/Sarah, Chuck, FC  
**Summary**: Yup, it's going to be one of those days.  
**Rating**: PG  
**Spoilers**: Through 2x07  
**Word Count**: 1500  
**Notes**: I'm so sorry, Jen. I love you.

* * *

Langley, Virginia, sucked.

But it was also CIA's headquarters, so Chuck didn't get much say in the matter, what with that whole light treason thing he'd sort of pulled. Cuffed inconspicuously beneath a heavy coat draped over his hands, he shuffled after Sarah, a scowling Casey on his ass.

"Come on, you guys," he tried earnestly, "I didn't know she was evil. How could I? Guys?"

Both Casey and Sarah ignored him.

Nervous, Chuck glanced at the looming complex ahead, deceptively flowery and inviting, then turned his head back to appeal to Casey, "Can we at least stop by BuyMore first? Before you lock me away forever?"

Casey raised an irritated eyebrow. "I'm not flying you back to California just because you're worksick."

"No, no," Chuck quickly assured, "the _local_ BuyMore. I need some... um, paper. To write down classified government secrets? And my last will and testament?"

Casey shoved him forward.

Nose scrunched up, Chuck stumbled a little, then said, "Please, Sarah."

Sarah paused, shoulders tensing. Slowly, she turned her head, glancing silently at Casey.

With a deep, suffering sigh, Casey clasped a hand on Chuck's shoulder and roughly ushered him back to the car. "Five minutes, Bartowski."

Muffling a hopeful little yelp, Chuck shambled into the back seat, wrists chafing, then pressed his cheek to the window, hoping the nearest BuyMore was at least a state away.

Of course, Casey found one in less than seven minutes.

Disappointed, Chuck ambled out of the car, letting Sarah readjust the coat over his hands. "How will I be able to carry my paper bundle if I'm handc—"

"If you try to run," she told him, expressionless, "I'll have to shoot you."

Chuck gulped, scurrying after Casey.

Several BuyMore employees seemed to be eyeing them suspiciously, huddled in hunched groups, oddly interested in Casey.

"Hey, isn't that—" one green-shirt whispered loudly, catching Chuck's attention.

"National employee of the month," finished another, sidling up to Casey. "It is!"

With an exasperated grunt, Casey tried to brush them off, but his fans seemed to swarm even faster, doubling in number with every move he made.

Delighted, Chuck turned to flee—

—and backed into Sarah.

"Oh," he coughed, smiling awkwardly. "I, um, flashed?"

Sarah narrowed her eyes. "Yeah?"

"Um, yeah," he repeated, frantically scanning the aisles. "That girl!"

Frowning, Sarah followed his line of vision. "What about her?"

Boy, coming up with secret intelligence was harder when he had to fake it. "North Korean... uh... missiles?"

Sarah seemed to consider him for a moment, then expertly extricated Casey from a horde of adoring green-shirts.

"Chuck flashed," she told Casey professionally, nodding her chin at the printer section. "Two o' clock."

Nonchalant, Casey sent the unsuspecting girl a cursory glance, then gave Sarah a small nod, and strode over.

"Did you need help with anything, ma'am?" he asked gruffly, subtly signaling to Sarah to come closer.

"What? No," the girl replied absentmindedly, then looked him up and down with a dubious frown. "Do you even work here?"

"Do you mind if we ask you a couple of questions?" Sarah continued calmly.

"...I'm not into threesomes," the girl replied warily, slowly inching away.

"No, it's okay," Chuck interjected quickly, "we just need to talk to you about—about... you know. Your job?"

The girl blinked. "Who are you people?"

Annoyed, Casey weighed his options, then ordered, "Okay, everyone into the car."

The girl's mouth opened, but before she could call for help, Sarah stretched purposefully, briefly flashing her gun.

"So... where are you guys parked?" the girl swallowed.

Looking culpable, Chuck shuffled back to the car, sending apologetic glances to the girl. Which she probably thought was creepy.

"I'm Chuck," he offered as they were both carelessly tossed into the back seat.

"And I was just... buying... toner," the girl mumbled, worried, then glanced at him. "Jen."

"Now that we've all been introduced," Casey growled, ducking into the driver's seat and gripping the steering wheel, "let's talk about these North Korean missles."

Chuck cringed.

"What?" Jen asked, raising both eyebrows.

Chuck slid closer to her, sheepish. "Play along, please."

"What?"

Sarah turned to look at them. "Who do you work for?"

Chuck shut his eyes tightly. "Okay, stop!"

Casey kept driving.

"I made a tiny mistake, you guys!" Chuck continued, waving his cuffed hands. "Maybe I didn't exactly flash, okay?"

Casey was silent for a long moment, jaw clenched, then opened his mouth—

Sarah's hand on his arm shut him up immediately.

"Chuck," she ground out. "Did you just make us breach security for nothing?"

Chuck made an expectant face. "I'm sorry?"

Casey wildly stepped on the gas, merging into rush-hour traffic.

He exchanged a glance with Sarah, tapping his fingers on the wheel. "Start praying, Bartowski," he grumbled dangerously.

Chuck did pray. Mostly for an eternal traffic jam.

Then he leaned back, whispering, "Sorry to get you involved with this whole... ehn... missile thing."

Jen gave a tiny shrug. "Well, I do sort of help build... uh, you know what? Never mind." She glanced at Casey and Sarah, then leaned in conspiratorially to ask, "So, are they, like, one of those Mr. and Mrs. Smith secret agent types that are going to shoot us when we pull over?"

Chuck grinned. "Yeah, except they don't have sex." Almost as an afterthought, he added, "And they won't shoot us. I hope."

Unconvinced, Jen stared at him for a moment, pondering. "Are you sure?"

"I don't know," he admitted. "I did piss Casey off pretty badly." He looked nauseous. "And he is a little trigger-happy... oh, God..."

Jen shared in the nausea. "No, I mean, they're sleeping together, right?"

Chuck snorted, shifting his knees awkwardly. "That's really gross. And impossible. Well, _improbable_. Ew."

Tilting her head, Jen pursed her lips. "Um, no, Chuck, they're totally doing it," she pointed out, flicking her wrist as though modeling a catalog. "See, it's all about the body language. They're weirdly in sync—"

"They're spies," Chuck argued. "It's their job to be coordinated. Since I'm not."

Jen hummed. "Yeah, but why is she still touching his arm?"

Chuck's head snapped up, eyes focusing on Sarah's fingers.

"Stop the car!" he shouted.

Both Casey and Sarah turned to look at him with identical looks of bemusement.

"Have you noticed we're not moving?" Casey asked impatiently, lips thinning.

"You!" Chuck accused, pointing both fingers, cuffs clinking against each other. "And her! Bed boogying!"

The horn went off.

Startled, Casey glanced at his palm, then removed it from the horn. "What are you talking about, Bartowski?"

Chuck alternated between looking at Casey's ominous expression and Sarah's avoiding gaze, then demanded, "Did you? Did you... _fornicate_?"

Casey steeled his features. "N—"

"Just once," Sarah said.

"Walker!"

Sarah leveled her eyes with Casey's. "He deserves to know the truth."

Casey looked away.

For his part, Chuck feverishly shook his head. "No, no," he chanted, "you sleeping together totally cancels out my light treason!"

Sarah tilted her head, eyes soft. "Chuck—"

"Your babies would get their own Hitchcock movie!" Chuck predicted, clawing at Casey's seat.

Casey raised an eyebrow. "Thank you, Bartowski."

"That wasn't a compliment! Oh, God, let me out."

"Me, too," Jen piped up, waving cautiously. "I can go now, right?"

Casey contemplated for a moment. "You understand that if you speak of this to anyone—"

"Who'd believe me?" she scoffed, eyeing the door handle.

Casey and Sarah exchanged another commiserating glance, which Chuck now suspected they did only to piss him off.

The door unlocked.

"Okay," Jen said experimentally, hands flying to the handle. "Well, it's been..." she trailed off, casting a sympathetic glance at Chuck. "I'm sorry your boyfriend cheated on you, Chuck."

Chuck gaped. "No, wait—"

But she was running down the street, passing a long line of cars, before the door even slammed shut behind her.

"...so," Sarah cleared her throat.

Casey glowered. "This would have never happened if we'd taken him to _NSA's_ headquarters."

Sarah rolled her eyes. "Yeah, Casey, Maryland would've magically erased what hap—"

Chuck covered his ears, speaking loudly, "La la la, World of Warcraft expansion, new generation iPhone, Ellie's mashed potatoes—"

Casey glanced at the back seat, then raised a cocky eyebrow. "Thought you said he deserves to know the truth?"

She pasted on an annoyed expression, but the corners of her mouth tugged upwards.

Sprawled in the back seat, tangled in a heavy coat and handcuffs, Chuck was sure only one thing in his life was true and constant.

His theory that Langley, Virginia, sucked.


End file.
